Saturday, July 19, 2014

Hope is arising in me on this uncommonly grey morning in
July. Northwest Yearly Meeting’s annual sessions begin today as I meet with the
Board of Global Outreach (what we used to call the Mission Board). In a sense
this is a time of closure as Hal and I are officially retiring from our service
under this board, a service we began with great hope and anticipation in 1971.
At the concluding banquet on Thursday evening, the yearly meeting will honor
us. I hope (that word again) it will be a gentle celebration, not too much
hoopla. Not any loud cheering. A few quiet handshakes, a mutual thank-you to
all concerned. After all, we don’t plan to stop serving and traveling and
writing and living this incredible adventure God called us to so many years
ago. We just won’t do it officially any more.

But of course this yearly meeting
time is about more than us. We find ourselves, as do so many other parts of the
Body Christ, embroiled in the controversy surrounding human sexuality. In
particular, our positions on gay, lesbian, and transgender issues are being
called into question. And we are a divided people. Many meetings strongly
affirm the traditional position that the Scriptures only allow for marriage
between a man and a woman, and that any deviation from this position means we
are in danger of compromising the faith. Fear combines with sorrow for these
dear people. Many people, and at least one meeting, believe the Spirit is
leading us out into a brave new world where we can affirm committed same-sex
relationships. Most of us are somewhere in the middle. We’re all longing for a
clear word from the Lord.

Part of my nature as a poet
embraces the ambiguity and basks in God’s silence. But that doesn’t work so
well when we’re faced with the concrete need to revise Faith and Practice.
And the longing to stay together, even in the midst of controversy.

We don’t know what will happen
during this year’s sessions, and I sense that many outside of our community are
watching and waiting. That’s why I find this hope that’s twirling around inside
me so strange, illogical and lovely. “Hope and a Future” also happens to be the
theme of the sessions, and I anticipate what our special speaker, Noah Baker
Merrill, will bring.

As I’ve been praying for us all
this last year, the words eventually come down to two basic requests:

Thursday, July 10, 2014

The meeting moved forwardslowly. The borders had beenestablished, and now differentones were adding pieces,
filling in the middle ofthis large puzzle.An underwater scene wasemerging, an ocean that pulsedwith kelp, corral, fish, bubblesand more light than was logical.But large holes remained.As I sat, one gnarly puzzle pieceswam through my brain, lodgedjust behind my eyes. I couldn’tmake sense of it at first, but allat once I recognized a smallorange pair of fish lips.“You’ve got to be kidding,”I said to Spirit.“Nope,” she replied.“But I can’t offer this. It’s silly.”“Yes, Nancy, you can.” I feltrather than saw her smile.“Besides, if you don’t put inyour piece, just think of that fish,forever doomed to livewithout its lips.”My giggle broke the surfaceof the silence. When the quietagain settled in,
I stood up.